


Soul or Sensual

by GlassesAndGiggles



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Castle Oblivion, Eating, F/M, Food descriptions, Only Fic for This Pairing, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10066697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassesAndGiggles/pseuds/GlassesAndGiggles
Summary: Vexen tempts Namine with a sensual pleasure- Food!  What did you think I meant?





	

**Author's Note:**

> (I've only recently replayed KH1 and KH:CoM, so if this isn't compliant with KH:AllTheOthers I apologize. I'm making my way through them but they're long games. Feel free to correct anything I get wrong in the comments! Thank you for reading! Also this pairing had no tags before on the site, so if you read this please say Hi! I can't be the only Vexen fan out there.) (11/2/2017 UPDATE: Almost done with 358/2 Days. Still don't know what's going on. UPDATE: 11/21/2017; Finished 358/2 Days, Still totally lost. Started Birth By Sleep. Seems like this one might have some answers. ))

Namine stiffened, the colored pencil in her hand slipping as she heard one of the Organization members appearing in the room. She waited. A second passed, but they did not speak. Another second of silence, and her small chest began to race beneath the thin white fabric of her gown.  
She inhaled. The scent of recently spent warm wax against her drawing paper, her own detergent. Castle Oblivion was a sterile place, the only smells being of the Nobodies themselves. Each one had their own.

Larxene had the crackle of ozone.

Axel was a swirl of cinder.

Both were clouded with the sting of hair spray.

But, she didn't smell lightning or flame. That left...

Don't be Marluxia. Don't be Marluxia.

She inhaled, but no stench of roses. Still, who else could it be?

She clutched her hands to her chest as she glanced around the side of her chair.  
It wasn't Marluxia, immediate relief, followed by dread. It was Vexen. The Organization members were already too tall for her, but Vexen was one of the tallest, and that made her even more nervous. He loomed as he strode across the floor towards her.

Worse yet, he was smiling. His smile never touched his eyes, not like Axel's, but it did stretch his teeth across his mouth in a way that looked more painful than pleasant.

He had something in his hands. A silver tray, rounded on top with a handle. His gloved hands were on either side, balancing it carefully.

Vexen lifted the lid off. The scent hit her, grease and oregano and sizzling skin.  
"Is... is that chicken?" Namine said, before she could stop herself. It was a large quarter. Black pepper speckled across the golden-brown flesh.

"Indeed, it is. I wondered if anyone had bothered to feed you today, so..." He trailed off.

"I'm not hungry." Namine stammered, even as her eyes grew larger scanning the chicken again and  
again. A pile of tossed brown rice sat next to the piping hot quarter.

"Really? Even though you haven't eaten all day? Everyone needs to eat."

"Nobodies aren't like everyone else." Namine insisted. She swallowed. Drool was filling her mouth.

"We lack hearts, but we still have stomachs, young Namine. And... the sensual pleasures." Vexen's lips twitched again in an upwards turn. He transferred the tray onto a pedestal, freeing his hands.

"Even the crudest animal enjoys its meal, the sugars, fats, carbohydrates, and proteins all hitting spots on the tongue honed over thousands of years to send enjoyment coursing through the body."  
Here he paused. He took up a silver fork sitting along the edge of the gilded platter. He stabbed the prongs into the skin, twisted, ripping free a length of crispy flesh. He brought it up to his lips, nibbled it "Don't you want to enjoy yourself Namine?"

"I'm okay, no thank you." She insisted.

Her stomach gave an audible rumble beneath the flimsy white dress.

"Ha." Vexen laughed. "Sit, eat."

"I don't want to-"

"It wasn't a request." The status-conscious Vexen stiffened in irritation. More than the others, Vexen kept track of who ranked where. To some a number was just that, but to him, it was everything. As Namine didn't even rank, her questioning him was the ultimate insult.

He gestured at the chair with one long arm, the ends of his robe swinging with the effort. Namine bit her lip, slowly made her way over to the chair, and then settled. Vexen curled his fingers around the edge of the pedestal. He grunted as he lifted it, hovering a fraction of an inch from the floor. He pushed it towards her, and it landed before her chair. The platter rattled but did not tip over.

He drifted over, handing her the fork.  
He must have put something in it.

But then why would he eat some of it?  
He hadn't eaten very much. He could easily have already taken an antidote.

With trepidation, she dug the fork into the flesh of the chicken. She pulled. The meat parted in succulent white strips. Clear juices rolled from the chunk.

She chewed, her narrow jaw working at grinding the meat. Heat in the form of a line of blushing crept its way across her nose. It did taste good. It was warm. Namine was always cold. Dressed for a tropical island but locked away from the real sun, heatless sun all around. But the meat still radiated with the degrees inherited from the oven that baked it. They pressed against the inside of her cheek, rising its temperature.

A weird noise, a soft 'Nnna.' Namine idly wondered where it came from as she swallowed, before she heard it again and realized it was her. She was making that nearly indecent sound; the relief of her hunger being satiated like a massage.

Her face burned pink. She stopped, large blue eyes staring up at Vexen. If he thought that her enjoyment of the food lacked propriety, he didn't show it. He looked pleased.

"You enjoyed it," Vexen noted.

Namine's blonde head bobbed once.

"Yes, I-"

"Good, good." And then Vexen grabbed the edge of the gilded tray. He pulled it away from her. Namine leaned forward in her seat, a hand unthinkingly grasping the opposite edge.

"That's all I needed to know-"

Without looking, Vexen teleported from the room. That would usually be the end of the interaction, if Namine had not been clinging to the other side of the chicken, the thin stream of juices and heat connecting them across the tray.

Without realizing, he brought Namine with him, down the darkness of the basement.

Namine had no chance to stand up. The chair had not come with her. As they manifested in the dim room, Namine's unbalanced legs wobbled and gave out. Her bottom fell through the air and hit the floor. This tilted the tray, causing the chicken to slide down its smooth surface. Vexen turned his head.

"What?" Was all he managed in the fraction of the second before Namine was showered in brown rice. The chicken quarter landed on her chest and slid down to her lap, smearing fat. Stunned silence followed.

Then Namine grabbed either side of the quarter, brought it to her mouth, and began to chew. Like a determine hamster, she sawed through the meat. Hunks of the meat disappeared past her tiny, strawberry lips. Unladylike gulps and swallows followed.

Vexen blinked. This was more willpower then the young witch had ever demonstrated.

Tenacity, stubbornness, and stupidity were not adjectives he'd usually assign to her.

Where was her austere waifish delicacy?

Where was her tragic composure?

And the biggest mystery of all, why was she indifferent to the fact that she was now dusted in ground black pepper?

Although Vexen couldn't stop staring at her, she didn't look up. She was down to the bone now, slurping the last traces of savory white meat by orchestrating her teeth, lips, and tongue to work together. The rice still left on the plate she piled into her hand, and the brought to her mouth. She chewed it dutifully. She now spared Vexen a glance. Her cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk's.

She swallowed.

"You..." He shook his head. It was bad enough half the organization neophytes intimidated him, he wouldn't be pushed around by their prisoners as well! His voice grew shrill. "I said that was all I wanted. You were to remain in your room! How dare you?"

"I was hungry." Namine brushed scattered brown rice from her shoulder's onto Vexen's floor. 

"I don't care if you were hungry, you disobeyed me!"

"You made me hungry." Namine whispered, averting her gaze. Vexen tossed the tray across the floor in annoyance, scattering bones and rice everywhere. The clattered echoed off the barren white walls. Namine flinched. Then, burped.

"The disrespect! This behavior! You may be Marluxia's pet project but I'll-"

Namine hiccupped, and then again, and again. She was shaking uncontrollably. The hiccups melted into hitching sobs. Vexen lowered his hand, which had instinctively begun to form into a flat, tense slap. He watched as fat tears rolled off Namine's messy cheeks and fell to the floor, splashing into dots of gray.

"Why do it if you're just going to cry afterwards?" Vexen snapped.

"I-I-I-" Lonely Namine broke down completely. The heat was gone. The chicken now sitting solidly in her stomach, leaving her with nothing but the cold stone walls again. "-I'm dirty." She wailed. The sound was louder than the clattering platter had been. It disrupted Vexen's usually quiet existence.

"Yes, you are." Vexen sighed. He glanced towards the doorway against the right wall leading out of this room. He had long ago had cards crafted from his memories before he lost his heart. Of a cozy place, tinted by nostalgia to be better than it ever had been in reality. A dusty study, a cozy bedroom, a tidy kitchen where he had prepared this chicken, and of course...

"Come along." He grabbed Namine's upper arm, pulling her from the floor. Her knees knocked into each other as she staggered after him. "Let us go."

"Where are you taking me?" She blinked away a fresh row of tears.

"Bathroom." He informed. Then he pushed his way into his little home of memories, Namine in tow.


End file.
